


Jealousy

by speck_of_dust



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28332933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speck_of_dust/pseuds/speck_of_dust
Summary: Even as an Empath, jealousy was a difficult emotion for Keefe to describe. Maybe even more difficult than love. Keefe had no words to describe jealousy, though it's a feeling he was well acquainted with. Keefe was no stranger to jealousy, and tonight, sipping lushberry juice at Fitz's Winnowing Gala and watching him twirl Sophie around as they talked and laughed too softly for Keefe to hear and looked utterly, beautifully, sickeningly in love, as they had been for at least the last hour, jealousy was especially prominent.
Relationships: Sophie Foster/Keefe Sencen/Fitz Vacker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Jealousy

Even as an Empath, jealousy was a difficult emotion for Keefe to describe. Maybe even more difficult than love. Love was easy to describe; the feeling of huddling around a campfire after nearly freezing, a laugh that you wish you could listen to forever, being unable to tear your eyes away from their smile because it's brighter and more beautiful than anything you've ever seen. Love was being in someone's arms and knowing you're safe, it was feeling like you're separated by inches when really you're oceans apart. It was the knowledge that, when you're with them, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

Love was a feeling Keefe knew well. It was what felt like sunlight every time he sees their faces, and what the canvas showed every time he went to paint with them in mind. It's what kept him going through the days when Lord Cassius called him worthless and he agreed. More than anything, he wished it was what they felt in return.

And that's where jealousy came in.

Jealousy was fire, but not with the comfortable warmth love had. It was hotter than everblaze and just as unpleasant, ready to consume Keefe and burn him until nothing remained, just a pile of ashes that still wished for love he was never going to get. Beyond the concept of fire, Keefe had no words to describe jealousy, though it's a feeling he was well acquainted with. Keefe was no stranger to jealousy, and tonight, sipping lushberry juice at Fitz's Winnowing Gala and watching him twirl Sophie around as they talked and laughed too softly for Keefe to hear and looked utterly, beautifully, _sickeningly_ in love, as they had been for at least the last hour, jealousy was especially prominent.

It was the only thing he could feel. Keefe wasn't even entirely convinced he was an elf anymore. Maybe he was just an entity consisting entirely of envy. 

He'd been so happy when he received the invitation to Fitz's Winnowing Gala, so _stupidly_ happy. He must have looked like a fool, holding that piece of paper like it contained all the secrets to the universe, like it was the most valuable thing he'd ever received. The moment was something he now looked back on with something between a smile and a grimace. A smile, because his sheer euphoria in that moment was nearly contagious, dancing around his room and nearly crying with joy because he was on Fitz's match list, he was _on Fitz's match list,_ and because Fitz wanted him there, at the gala. Fitz was willing to consider choosing Keefe as a match, willing to consider spending the rest of his life with Keefe. It was a small chance, but more of a chance than he'd ever dreamed he might have, and that was enough to celebrate.

And of course, he cringed looking back on that happiness as well. Because he really did look like a fool. And besides, it was idiotic to think that chance really meant something, that a fleeting moment of hope, of _maybe_ , could ever turn into something real. Of course it couldn't. Fitz loved _Sophie_ , it was obvious from halfway across Everglen's massive ballroom, they were so in love.

Even being on Fitz's match list, being on a _boy's_ match list, was more than Keefe ever thought he'd get. Same sex matches were only allowed recently, after Della came out and dumped Alden for Livvy, and her popularity throughout the Lost Cities convinced enough people to support this ridiculous notion that love is love. It was really incredible that Keefe's bisexual disaster of a self could even be matched with both boys and girls, and what was he thinking, hoping for more? Pushing his luck?

Stupid. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Didn't he already know he was stupid, when it came to the belief that maybe, possibly, he could have a chance with someone he loved? When he thought maybe, maybe he might have a chance with Sophie, despite knowing she would never be interested in him? Not instead of Fitz, not in addition to Fitz, never. No matter how much he flirted, all the times he tried to impress her, everything he did to try to prove he was worth her time, it never worked. She would never feel the same way, with that warmth and sunlight and _happiness_ he felt for her. Never.

Angrily, Keefe shoved a custard burst into his mouth, trying to be polite and nod along and smile as Biana stood to the side with him and talked about how happy she was with Marella. He tried to be happier for her, he did, but it was so hard. It was so hard to be happy with her love life when his own was such a disaster. As she talked, Keefe's eyes couldn't stop drifting over to Sophie and Fitz, who were still twirling slowly, orbiting each other, because they were the center of each other's universes and nothing else matter, not when they were so enamored, leaning in closer, and closer, and closer... he couldn't watch, but he couldn't _not_ watch. It hurt to watch, but he couldn't tear his eyes away as Fitz gently tucked a strand of hair behind Sophie's ear, leaving his hand to cup her face...

"Keefe?" said Biana, concern in her tone. "Are you okay?"

 _Both of them._ He was in love with both of them, so much it hurt. 

"I need to get some fresh air," he choked out, turning around and rushing to the doors. Unable to resist sneaking one last glance towards Sophie and Fitz, he found them kissing, kissing each other and not him, and blinked back tears as he stepped outside. It was cold, enough for Keefe to distantly wish he'd brought a jacket. He barely noticed the frigid air, though, not when the flames of jealousy kept him nice and warm.

It was unclear how much time passed, as he leaned against the wall and wished things were different, hated that they weren't, and let jealousy wash over him every time he remembered Fitz and Sophie kissing. Which was often. A photographic memory was very annoying. Eventually, Keefe realized he was shivering and leaped back to his house. It fixed the cold. It didn't fix the jealousy. Nothing could. Eventually, he fell asleep, but even dreams couldn't get the image out of his head, even sleep couldn't extinguish the fire of jealousy that just burned and burned and burned.

The next day, he wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and wish Sophie loved him back, or Fitz loved him back, or ideally, both loved him back, but no. They still weren't interested, Keefe was still jealous, and he still had to go to Foxfire. After a morning of trying his best to avoid the new happy couple (couple, meaning two), they finally cornered him after lunch.

Keefe smiled, pretending he was okay, better than okay, he was _happy_ , because they were happy. So incredibly, disgustingly, stupidly, _painfully_ happy together. "Hey, guys," he said, keeping his voice as cheerful as physically possible. "Congratulations on finally making Fitzphie official. Or is it Sophitz? Who knows. Anyway, yeah. Congratulations." He took a deep breath as Sophie smiled, squeezing Fitz's hand. She was wearing her cognate ring. They were both wearing their cognate rings, and it practically looked like engagement rings. Or wedding rings. Keefe clenched his jaw, wondering how he would survive the next five minutes of having to endure this, let alone the rest of his life.

"You left really abruptly last night, I never got the chance to thank you for coming to my Winnowing Gala... you okay?" Fitz asked.

 _No, not really_ , he wanted to say, but Keefe forced himself to grit his teeth, swallow, and lie. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wasn't feeling too well after all those custard bursts I ate." He laughed, but it sounded fake even to his own ears; tears stung his eyes and he fought them back. "I'm... I'm happy for you." As he said the words, his heart broke- no, it wasn't breaking. It was burning, being slowly destroyed by jealousy's flames. His heart burned and he forced himself to ignore the pain. _Be happy for Sophie and Fitz_ , he ordered himself. _They're happy, and if you really love them, you'll be happy that they're happy_.

No matter what he told himself, it was impossible to really muster up that happiness, when his own heart was burning.

"Are you sure?" Sophie said, voice soft. "I may not be an Empath, but it's obvious you're really upset."

"No, I'm fine," Keefe argued, very badly.

With the hand that wasn't currently holding Sophie's, Fitz gently nudged Keefe. "Hey. If you want to talk about it, you can talk to us. We're your friends."

 _Friends_. It was meant to be a good thing, Keefe knew, a reassurance, a word of support. Friends wasn't meant to be an insult. A taunt. That wasn't how Fitz meant it, and yet, it didn't take long for that to be all Keefe could hear, the word _friends_ echoing over and over in a nearly mocking tone as jealousy brewed and bubbled beneath Keefe, burning in his chest and building like lava until he threatened to explode. Before Keefe could take the time to carefully construct a facade and plan his response, the walls around him collapsed and he did. He exploded.

"Exactly! _Friends_! You're my _friends_ , you're both my _friends_ , but that's the only thing we'll ever be. Neither of you will ever want to be anything other than my _friend_ , but that's what I want more than anything. I'm so in love with you, both of you, but you're happy together and the only thing I am to you is a _friend._ I just..." All the anger seeped out of him, leaving him with nothing more than a sort of resigned sadness. Nearly worse than jealousy. "...I'm sorry. I love you both, but you're in love with one another, and that's okay. It's okay. I'm... I'm happy for you." Keefe took a step back, then another, ready to run and hide and eat unholy amounts of ice cream and drown in jealousy. This was stupid. He was so stupid. All of this was stupid.

Sophie and Fitz, both of whom had been briefly still with shock at his outburst, came alive again. "Keefe, wait!" Sophie called, brushing her fingers against the edge of Keefe's cape as she reached out. Against his better judgement, he obliged.

"We definitely love each other," said Fitz, gesturing to himself and Sophie. Keefe clenched his teeth and nodded. "But... Sophie's not the only person I'm in love with. And I'm not the only person Sophie's in love with. Keefe, we were actually talking about it earlier, and wanted to ask if you'd be willing to form a sort of... triad with us."

Even as an Empath, Keefe couldn't quite find the words to describe the feeling rising in him right now. It was impossible to keep the smile off his face as he nodded and ran into a group hug.

Jealousy didn't completely go away, not quite. It sometimes made a faint reappearance, like when Sophie and Fitz danced or did their Cognate exercises, or when Keefe couldn't entirely shake the feeling that both Fitz and Sophie wished they were together without him. And even as an Empath, Keefe never did come up with any words beyond _fire_ to describe jealousy, but due to its increasing rarity, that didn't seem necessary anymore. 

The emotion he still felt he had to describe was love, but love was easy.

Love was the feeling of huddling around a campfire after nearly freezing, a laugh that you wish you could listen to forever, being unable to tear your eyes away from their smile because it was brighter and more beautiful than anything you've ever seen. Love was being in someone's arms and knowing you're safe, it was feeling like you're separated by inches when really you're oceans apart. It was the knowledge that, when you're with them, there's nowhere else you'd rather be. Love felt like sunlight every time he saw their faces, and what the canvas showed every time he went to paint with them in mind. It's what kept him going through the days when Lord Cassius calls him worthless and he agrees. More than anything, love is what Keefe is absolutely elated that they feel in return.

**Author's Note:**

> For one of my first times writing polyamory (despite bEING polyamorous), I think I did okay. Then again, this was written at 2AM and I didn't edit beyond fixing verb tenses, so maybe not. Please comment anyway, and thanks for reading!


End file.
